


Safe House Stories

by palmtreelights



Category: Power Rangers, Power Rangers Dino Thunder
Genre: AU, Bilingual Character(s), Blood, Bubble Bath, Dark, Dreams and Nightmares, F/F, Flirting, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kinda, Mind Control, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Past Mind Control, Romance, who even am i anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-06-07 12:14:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6803689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palmtreelights/pseuds/palmtreelights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collected shorts and scenes taking place during or around 'The Safe House.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lilac and Sandalwood

**Author's Note:**

> This will always be marked as complete but may be added to at any time. There will be fluff, and there will be more difficult subjects now and then. Please mind the tags and don't hesitate to tell me if you'd like me to add to the individual chapter content warnings.
> 
> The very idea of these two as a ship was an accident, but I'm glad for it because they're a lot of fun to write. Hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, kind of. Set during 'The Safe House'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for implied/offscreen torture (aka 'punishment' and/or 'discipline').

The bathroom light is on when Hayley gets home one night. She hadn’t anticipated a visit after today’s battle, but she’s not going to argue about it. Not seriously, anyway.

She’s half expecting there to be scented candles lit and placed strategically around the room, and when she finds there aren’t any, she’s actually disappointed—or she would be, if not for the sight of Elsa in the guise of a normal human woman, hair piled in a messy bun atop her head, lounging in Hayley’s tub, a thin layer of bubbles on the water granting her the illusion of modesty.

“Let me guess,” says Hayley, crossing her arms as she stares at her half intruder, half guest. “No bathtubs in the fortress?”

Scooping up a handful of bubbles, Elsa shakes her head. “I’m lucky there’s a shower. I’m the only one who needs such facilities.”

“That’s gross. It must smell awful there.”

Elsa shrugs and meets Hayley’s gaze. “I keep my spaces clean. I get a _lot_ of privileges, being the only woman there.”

Hayley snorts. “No wonder you keep coming here.”

“Yes.” Elsa blows the bubbles in Hayley’s direction, giving a smirk that would be coy if it were anyone but her. “Join me. There’s plenty of room, and the water is _so_ nice.”

“Gimme a sec.”

First, Hayley has to find them both bathrobes, and next, she has to undress in her room. They’re playing a game, sure, but if either of them is the sexy undressing type, it’s probably Elsa. Either way, Hayley isn’t in the mood to strip with an audience. She just wants to soak for a while, leave the day behind. If she happens to also get information out of this evening, all the better.

Once her clothes are off and her hair is up, she heads back for the bathroom, hanging the bathrobes on the towel rack, and stepping into the tub when Elsa pulls aside to make room for her. The water is hot, but not scalding, just the way Hayley likes it. As soon as she’s settled in, Elsa slides an arm around her shoulders, turning onto her side and pulling close to nuzzle Hayley’s cheek.

“You have zero patience,” Hayley says, but she smiles anyway, languid and relaxed, lifting a hand to the back of Elsa’s neck to rub slow circles against her skin. “No wonder a bunch of high schoolers keeps beating you.”

“You’re not going to upset me. I’m too comfortable, and you smell like coffee.” Elsa pulls back, wrapping her other arm around Hayley’s waist. “And you know how much I love coffee.”

“Slow down,” Hayley laughs. “I just got here.”

“And I lost a battle today and got disciplined for it. I fail to see your point.”

“Did he hurt you?” It’s hard to tell how much Elsa is bothered by that part of her job; she’s so casual when she talks about it, like none of it matters, like it’s _normal_. It’s _not_ normal. Bad guy or not, no one should be treated that way, and if Hayley can make her understand just that, then maybe—

No, that’s too much to hope for, and she can’t afford to be blinded by it. This is too dangerous. _Mesogog_ is too dangerous. She could end up getting both of them hurt, plus the Rangers. Better to let things go naturally.

Shrugging, Elsa looks away for a moment, at the shower curtain she’s pushed all the way against the far wall. “Not too badly.”

Without even thinking on it, Hayley finds herself looking her over, searching for new cuts or bruises, for anything she might’ve gotten in the time between their most recent night together and now.

“What’s this?” She sets a hand on Elsa’s shoulder, stroking her thumb over a thin strip of lighter tissue on her collarbone.

Elsa glances at it, then gives Hayley a blank stare. “A scar.”

“No joke.” Hayley rolls her eyes. “Where’d you get it?”

Looking at it again, Elsa says softly, “I don’t know.” For a moment, she looks lost, almost frightened; and then just as quickly, she purses her lips and arches an eyebrow. “The lab, probably. Or the sparring room.”

“Not the—punishment chamber, then.” Try as she might, Hayley always hesitates on those words, even if she doesn’t say them out loud. They are loathsome and horrifying if she thinks about them too hard, so she never does.

“Possibly.” Shrugging, Elsa grabs Hayley’s hand, running her wrinkly thumb over the lines of her palm. “I don’t see why it matters. It’s old and healed. I’d forgotten I even had it.”

“It’s new to me,” Hayley tells her, watching how Elsa plays with her hand. “You know how scientists get when they find a new thing.”

“Yes, I do.” A second or two more of inspecting Hayley’s hand, then Elsa lets it go, shifting closer to Hayley as she slides her arm around her waist again. “Bubble baths are new to me.”

Hayley snickers, rolling her eyes. “You don’t have to flirt anymore, you know. I’m here, and I’m plenty seduced.”

“I like how it makes you blush,” Elsa protests. “Like you’re not used to the attention.”

So that’s what Elsa is after. Mining supposed insecurities is a good tactic, Hayley will admit that much, but she’s not going to fall for it.

“Not from someone who could kill me, no.” Leaning in, she touches her forehead to Elsa’s and shuts her eyes, breathing deep of the steamy, scented air. “Lilac?” She snickers, but she doesn’t move away. “I pictured you for a midnight jasmine person.”

“Buy some of that for next time, then,” Elsa murmurs.

Hayley moves in for a kiss that’s slow and sweet, and heavens if she doesn’t want this to be real. It must be nice to not be a genius, to think the world is simple and that people really change overnight. Elsa is one heck of a performer; anyone else might be fooled by how she kisses, like it gives her strength, like she even knows what love is or could be. Hayley knows the truth, though. They both do.

Even so, it feels wrong in the best way to run a hand down Elsa’s back, to feel the soft skin that hides vicious strength that far too often gets used to try and destroy the world. It’s subdued now, reined in so that Hayley doesn’t get hurt, traded in for whispers, for lies of a different nature.

Hayley is only too glad to let her think she’s won in this. There’s nothing to be gained from hurting Hayley, and taking her as a hostage would only send the Rangers knocking on Mesogog’s door, which would only result in more punishment for Elsa. And surely the enemy believes the war must last longer, must make numerous smaller attacks, because the monster needs the time to work on his master plan; it benefits the Rangers, too, gives Hayley the chance to fine-tune their weaponry and try and outpace their opponents. In the meantime, this isn’t a bad way to go about digging for information.

On a whim, she nips at Elsa’s upper lip, and Elsa pulls away, laughing. She sounds sincere.

Hayley wishes she were.

She isn’t, though; her eyes are dark as she tangles her fingers in Hayley’s hair, fingernails scraping her scalp in a way that feels so good that Hayley doesn’t bother trying to hide how she shivers.

“My favorite scent is sandalwood,” Elsa tells her, voice low, “but don’t worry. I’ll bring some for next time.”

“You’re assuming I’m going to want you to come back.” Even as she says so, Hayley nudges Elsa’s knee with her own. “What if we end up fighting tonight?”

Chuckling, Elsa rolls her eyes. “I’m not afraid of getting into a little word fight, though now _you’re_ assuming we’ll be doing much talking at all.”

“So far, all it’s _been_ is talk.” Hayley shrugs. “And I figure, you’re probably in pain from losing today, so I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself more.”

“Oh?” Elsa laughs again, soft and deep, and traces a finger up Hayley’s arm, along her collarbone, up her neck. Her skin is hot on Hayley’s, and the damp trail her fingertip leaves behind cools too quickly.

Hayley tugs Elsa closer, for warmth.

“Careful,” warns Elsa. “I could be wounded.”

“Then I guess I’ll be gentle,” Hayley says, and as if to prove it, she places her hands on Elsa’s cheeks and presses a kiss to her forehead. “Because I _do_ want you to come back.”

“I _hate_ to admit this, but…” Elsa trails off, twining one leg around one of Hayley’s, glancing away just long enough that Hayley almost believes Elsa is human and good. “I do _love_ hearing that.”

Hayley snickers, and Elsa smirks at her before leaning in to stop them talking any further.


	2. In Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams and nightmares, then and now. Set during and after 'The Safe House.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In researching for this, I learned that the English word 'taboo' comes from Tongan 'tabu' (the Māori word is 'tapu').

Hayley isn’t really sure where she picked up the assumption that bad guys don’t dream. Possibly from having heard people say “evil never sleeps” now and then, which in retrospect is really not the most scientifically sound way to form any sort of theory.

Still, it’s one she’s had for longer than she can remember, and of all the ways she could be proven wrong, she never would’ve thought it’d be her _situation_ with Elsa that would not only challenge the theory, but shatter it to pieces.

The second night Elsa stays over is the first one she wakes suddenly, shooting upright and pushing herself back against the wall, one arm raised to cover her face. All that movement jolts Hayley awake, fearing an attack and forgetting all about Elsa until she sees her.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Hayley asks, sitting up and looking around the room for any new and menacing shadows. There are none, though. It’s just the two of them and all of Hayley’s things, quiet and harmless, solid and constant.

The clock on the nightstand reads _2:00 AM_. Elsa’s breathing is the only sound in the room; it’s shallow and rapid, and it seems to fill the air with the fear that clings to her from the dream.

“It’s okay,” Hayley tells her, sighing heavily. “You were just dreaming.”

Elsa’s gaze darts to her, wide-eyed and lost. Then she blinks, and she’s back to normal, huffing as she scowls. “It was nothing.”

“Didn’t seem like no—”

“ _Good night_.”

Eyebrows arched, Hayley watches her shift and brusquely tug at the sheets as she lies back down on her side, giving Hayley her back. Vicious warrior by day, petulant would-be girlfriend by night.

Hayley shakes her head and follows suit, looking at the clock one more time before drifting off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

The second time is a few weeks later, and this time Elsa screams when she wakes, backing up again and curling into a ball, trembling and mumbling to herself. Hayley listens, waiting to see if she can figure out what she’d been dreaming and soothe her fear with a few words, but the longer she does so, the less she can make out. It sounds like it _should_ be a recital of pleas for mercy, but if it is, it’s not in English.

“Elsa,” Hayley says, voice soft but clear as she places a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay—”

The moment she touches her shoulder, Elsa shrugs her hand away and lifts her head, eyes wide and terrified as she says something Hayley doesn’t understand.

Hayley freezes. Is Elsa even understanding her right now? Is she still stuck in the nightmare that woke her? Hayley can’t give up on her, though. She won’t, so she takes a deep breath, ready to try and talk to her again—

And then Elsa shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut, and relaxes out of her defensive position. Hayley watches her shift away from the wall and frown at the sheets as she pulls and shoves them back into place.

She sighs when she’s satisfied with the sheets, then turns and scowls at Hayley. “Why are you looking at me like that.”

Pursing her lips, Hayley shrugs. “I wish I knew.”

“What in the _world_ do you mean by that.”

“Well, you woke up screaming, so I was a little worried, and then you were muttering in some other language—”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Elsa narrows her eyes further. “Why would I be speaking _any_ language but my master’s?”

Hayley shrugs again. “You tell me.”

“I _wouldn’t_ be,” Elsa snaps. “Lord Mesogog made me. I don’t need to know anything he doesn’t. If I did, then _I’d_ be in charge.”

That’s frightening on an entirely different level, but it’s late—or early, depending on how she looks at it—so Hayley simply shakes her head and says, “Okay. Sorry I dared to worry about you.” Sighing, she lies back down, and waits until Elsa has done the same before she shuts her eyes.

In the moments before sleep overcomes her, she feels Elsa’s hand cover her own.

 

* * *

 

When it’s all over and Mesogog is defeated, Hayley expects her to have nightmares. She thinks she understands now why Elsa used to have them—her subconscious mind always knew who she really was, and it was only in sleep that her memories could rise to the surface and try to overcome the immense power twisting her mind into serving such a cruel master. That’s over now, and as deep as the brainwashing had gone, it has left no gaps in her memory.

In the absence of that, though, the truth becomes a horror all its own.

The first night Elsa stays over, after prom, they sleep through the night; but the following night, they’re both woken up when she screams, murmuring a shaky, bilingual plea as she comes fully out of the dream. At least now, even though the terror clouds her mind for those first few seconds, she doesn’t snap at Hayley or push her away. Instead, she leans into her embrace the moment Hayley offers it, and Hayley holds her for as long as she needs, as long as she wants.

“You’re okay,” she tells Elsa, rubbing a hand up and down her back in a slow, steady rhythm. “Everything’s okay.”

Minutes later, when they’ve both quieted and Hayley’s eyelids start to feel heavy again, Elsa pulls away, meets her gaze, and says, “It’s Māori.”

Hayley frowns.

Before she can ask for clarification, Elsa continues, “I speak Māori. That’s— Mesogog blocked it off, but it must’ve come back now and then when I slept, so I would wake up and start using it when I wasn’t really thinking.”

“Makes sense.” Hayley sighs, shaking her head. “You know, every time I think I’ve heard all the awful things he did, something new comes to light. I shouldn’t be surprised that he went so far.”

Shrugging, Elsa looks away and tucks some hair behind her ear. “This wasn’t so bad, I think. He wasn’t able to take it from me, to have truly absolute control. Whenever I spoke _Te Reo_ , I was free, even if it didn’t last long.”

“Geez,” Hayley mutters, wincing. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s over now.” Sighing, Elsa looks at Hayley again. “That’s what matters.”

“What matters is that you’re okay, that you’re going to be okay.” Placing a hand on her shoulder, Hayley holds her gaze for a moment in silence, then nods. “Do you want some tea or anything?”

“No. Could we just— Let’s just lie down.”

“Sure.”

Pulling back her hand, she smiles and settles back down with a long, quiet sigh. Elsa nestles against her, whispering what Hayley guesses means _good night_ or _sleep well_. Or maybe it’s _thank you_. Maybe it’s a prayer, or a wish, or a phrase without translation.

Hayley lets it go. They both need to sleep right now, but in the morning, over breakfast, she will ask if she can have a quick lesson, enough to learn the words to offer comfort when the nightmares wake them both.


	3. Gameplayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small argument, defused with deception. Set during 'The Safe House'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specifically, this takes place after 'Fighting Spirit'.
> 
> Content warnings for very clear allusions to torture (aka punishment). This is also a little more obviously sexual than anything before it, but only slightly so.

As soon as the feeling starts to come back to her body, Elsa pushes herself off the floor. Only a month ago, Zeltrax would have been here too, still lying prone, his metal body more susceptible than hers to the extreme cold of today’s punishment. So much for all his bragging about how much better it is to be mostly robotic. He may have been harder to hurt and easier to fix, but Elsa doesn’t need to wait for any replacement parts in order to get back on her feet. Her body repairs itself like a human’s; a curious choice on Mesogog’s part, to make her so like the creatures they hate, but how convenient for her right now, when her endothermic biology enables her to get up and out of the punishment chamber ahead of anyone’s expectations.  
  
It’s early in the evening. Hayley won’t be at her house yet, but with nothing more to do for the day than recover, Elsa heads there anyway. She winces when she lands; she’s asking too much of her body too soon after being punished, she knows, but it will pass. The warm air in the living room will leech into her, chasing out the chill that has burrowed deep into her bones.  
  
She takes a slow walk around the room to start, glancing over everything just in case Hayley has left out some clue or another as to where the Rangers’ base of operations is. No such luck, though. Of course. Hayley is actually intelligent, and probably the only reason that those children have managed to thwart Mesogog for so long.  
  
“And yet she’d neglect her house plants,” Elsa huffs. It’s menial and beneath her, but it’s something to do, so she goes into the kitchen for a measuring cup and waters the plants. It takes far too little time to do, of course, but rather than help Hayley further, she changes into her normal-human look and stretches out on the couch to wait for her host.  
  
It’s dark when she wakes to the sound of Hayley slamming her car door shut. Elsa sits up, stretching as she yawns. Not a bad way to spend the hour or so after punishment. She feels fully recovered, ready to see if she can get Hayley to cough up anything of value. This is the best idea she’s had, both because it’s one that Mesogog keeps praising her on (even if his patience with it _does_ wane from time to time), and because it’s so enjoyable. It’s a different kind of fun than battle, and one Elsa is equally suited to.

As Hayley unlocks the front door, Elsa settles back into the cushions, crossing her legs and giving a languid smirk.  
  
“Well, if it isn’t my—”  
  
“Don’t.” Hayley slams the door shut and fixes a glare on her. “Just get out.”  
  
Elsa frowns. “Pardon me?”  
  
Eyebrows shooting up, Hayley gestures to where the invisiportal is. “Was I not clear? _Get out of my house._ I don’t want to look at you after what you pulled today.”

“Ah.” Elsa shrugs. “That was just business as usual.”

“You almost killed them.”

“Please.” Elsa rolls her eyes. “I didn’t even fight today.”

“Yeah, but you sent out a monster that disabled their morphers.” Hayley hangs her keys on the hook with such force that Elsa is almost surprised she doesn’t rip it off the wall altogether. _Almost_ surprised, because Hayley is strong, but not _that_ strong.

“Yes,” Elsa agrees, as Hayley walks across the room to set her backpack on the side table by the armchair. “And then it fled and left them alone, and when it went back to finish its business in the city, _they_ chose to fight it unarmed.”

Hayley stops in the middle of unzipping her backpack, gaze snapping up to meet Elsa’s. “Of _course_ they would do that. They’re _heroes_. They’d die for Reefside. For the world. For what _you’re_ trying to destroy.”

“I’m only doing what I’m told to—”

“That’s not an excuse!” Hayley tugs open the backpack with a loud _zip_ , eyes fixed on Elsa’s, as if she’s picturing hitting her. “You _decide_ to do what you do.”

Huffing, Elsa stands and crosses her arms. “I don’t see why you’re so upset. Today wasn’t any different from a normal day.” She pauses, her frown relaxing as she studies her. She could keep needling Hayley, could press her buttons until, maybe, she spills something.

But that’s not what works best. She’s never gotten Hayley angry enough to speak without thinking, and whenever she _has_ been upset, it’s been like this, righteous and protective, the kind that makes her hold her secrets even closer. No, with Hayley, it’s best to appeal to her sympathies, and she is so very _easy_ to do that to.

“What’s bothering you?” Elsa asks, voice softening as she approaches her. “Tell me.”

Hayley glares at her for a few seconds longer, as if Elsa is a puzzle she needs to solve, and then she shuts her eyes and sighs. “I thought we were going to lose Tommy today.”

“Really?” That’s news to Elsa—good news, almost, because it would be better for her if they _had_ lost him. She twists her disappointment into sympathy, reaching out to place a hand over Hayley’s. “But you didn’t.”

“Thank goodness.” Hayley sighs and purses her lips, avoiding Elsa’s gaze. “He’s one of my best friends.”

If it weren’t for her ultimate objective here, Elsa would taunt her. _He’ll only die when my master says so_. _He’ll die on the battlefield. We’ll do the honors._

Instead, she gives a small, wry smile and half a shrug. “I have no idea what that’s like, but I don’t like how upset today made you.”

Shrugging, Hayley looks at her. “For once, it’s not your fault.”

Elsa’s smile widens a little. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” She lifts a hand to Hayley’s cheek, makes it halfway there before Hayley stops her with a sentence.

“I don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?”

“Why you do it. Why you fight for him. Why you fight kids because he tells you to.”

Drawing back her hand, Elsa shrugs. “I believe in his vision. Humans are an inferior species. Being transformed will make all of you better, and my lord will be an excellent ruler.”

Hayley scoffs, shaking her head, finally giving a smile that’s wholly disbelieving. “He’s not, and I find it hard to believe _you_ want to turn into something that looks like _him_.”

“He made me,” Elsa answers, voice even and calm. “He can change me into whatever he wants. It makes no difference. Besides, I have powers of my own, and I can look like this—” she gestures to her form now, the long-haired, ordinary human woman look that Hayley likes so much “—whenever I want.”

“I still don’t get it, but I guess that’s what makes _you_ the bad guy, not me.”

Smirking, Elsa chuckles. “Oh, I don’t know. You have it in you to be pretty bad.” She steps closer as she speaks, cupping Hayley’s cheek. “I like that.”

Hayley rolls her eyes, but she gives a smug little grin anyway. “I know. You’re a terrible influence.”

“And here I was, planning to make you feel better.”

Breathing deep, Hayley shuts her eyes and leans into her touch. It’s so trusting, so sincere, that it tugs at something warm and sweet in her.

Elsa hates it, whatever it is, fears what it could be; but she gives into it just a little, stroking Hayley’s cheek with her thumb and pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

“Let me help you undress,” she whispers, weaving another thread into the net she’s going to trap Hayley in. “We’ve both had a rough day, but it doesn’t have to end badly.”

“Yeah,” says Hayley, opening her eyes and holding Elsa’s gaze for a moment, before she steps away. “Come on.”

Elsa nods and walks close behind her, keeping her hands to herself until they’re in the bedroom. Then she moves in, slower than usual, feigning affection so well that she almost believes it herself. Never mind the sensation that stirs in her chest when Hayley says her name like a prayer, or when Hayley works veritable magic with so little effort. It’s all a game, and Elsa intends to win.


	4. Muscle and Malice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dubious accord is reached. Set during 'The Safe House'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for referenced punishment/discipline/torture. I guess this qualifies for the higher end of the Teen rating. (I swear I have a fluffy one in the works. It's so cute.)

Hayley bites her bottom lip and takes a deep breath as the world comes back into focus—the quiet hum of the air conditioner, the sheen of sweat on her skin, the warm, pleasant weight of Elsa atop her, still straddling her hips and watching her, doubtless, with a smile. Yes, she’s supposed to try and get information about the next monster attack or the latest experiment, but it’s just so much easier to give in, to let Elsa think she really does have the upper hand in this, that she’s got Hayley right where she wants her, content and trusting.

The content part is right, at least.

“Stop being so cute,” Elsa purrs, tracing a finger over Hayley’s lips. “It’s almost irresistible.”

“Then stop being so bossy.” Giving a breathy chuckle, Hayley grasps Elsa’s wrist and pulls her hand away. “Come here and let me hold you.”

“ _Now_ who’s bossy?” Elsa tugs her hand free and does as told, resting her head on Hayley’s shoulder as if cuddling like this is habit.

Sometimes, she’s too humanlike, Hayley thinks as she pulls her close, arms snug around her; sometimes, it’s hard to remember that she’s the enemy, a warrior and a loyal servant of evil. She’s heavy, all muscle and malice, but when they’re like this, she seems delicate and fragile (small, _human_ ), and all Hayley wants to do is keep her here, away from the monster who hurts her when she doesn’t do exactly what he wants.

Maybe all of this, the conversations, the sex, the affection, will work their way into her mind and make her change sides. It’s the best Hayley can hope for, the way she tells herself it’s okay to indulge and let Elsa do all these things she’s so good at.

“They don’t appreciate you enough,” Elsa whispers, twirling a lock of Hayley’s hair around her finger. “I appreciate you more, and you’re working against me.”

Hayley shivers, Elsa’s breath hot against her collarbone. “There’s an easy way to fix that.”

“Oh?”

“Mmhm.” She turns so her cheek is against the top of Elsa’s head, and inhales. Sandalwood. She’ll always think of her now when she smells that. “Come join us and remind the others how lucky they are to have me.”

Elsa laughs, curling tighter against her with the motion. “You _know_ I can’t do that.”

“Do you want to, though? I mean—” Hayley hesitates, pulls her head back just slightly. “Would you, if you had the chance.”

“ _Stop_ that,” Elsa breathes, burying half her face in the curve of Hayley’s neck. “You’re ruining the moment.”

Try though she might, Hayley can’t keep a smirk off her face. “We can just make a new one.”

“My, my, how confident we are.” Elsa’s hold on Hayley tightens, becoming almost possessive.

Hayley holds her breath for the few moments it takes Elsa to speak again.

“I have no reason to join your team. I spend my days working for my master’s dream, and a good number of my nights with you. It’s the best of both worlds.”

“But he hurts you,” Hayley blurts.

“Not always.”

“He shouldn’t _ever_.”

“I don’t see why he shouldn’t. If I’ve earned punishment—”

“You deserve _better_.”

Elsa tenses, fingernails digging into Hayley’s skin, and Hayley holds her breath again. She’s ruined this. It’s over now. Elsa is going to leave and never come back, and they’ll have nothing to show for all of this work and play but a few good memories and a petty grudge.

Maybe it’s for the best. She should never have let Elsa get this close anyway.

So why is there an apology stuck in her throat like a knot?

“You’re so sweet,” murmurs Elsa, and Hayley swears she hears her voice crack towards the end, like she’s upset somehow. She’s angry, probably; shaken, hopefully. “That’s going to get you killed someday.”

Hayley lets out a quick huff of a laugh, lying still as Elsa releases her hair and props herself up a little. Her eyes bore into Hayley’s as she smooths her hair off her forehead.

“I told you,” says Hayley, giving a smile she doesn’t feel. “I don’t find death threats sexy.”

Shaking her head, Elsa traces Hayley’s hairline. “That was a warning.”

“Still not sexy.”

“I don’t come here to talk to you about work,” Elsa continues, like she’d never even stopped, as she keeps mapping out the lines of Hayley’s face with a fingertip. “I come here to get to know you. You’re interesting, and you’re a delight both in and out of bed.”

“I’m not fishing for compliments—”

“And _I’m_ not fishing for _job offers_.” She stops then, gaze hard, finger poised halfway down Hayley’s jaw. “Why can’t you just accept this for what it is? Or, if it bothers you so much to be on different sides, _you_ should join _us_.”

Before she has the chance to second guess herself, Hayley goes with her gut response. “Your lair is on an island. That wouldn’t be a very good commute for me.”

For a few seconds, Elsa simply stares at her. Then she smiles, smug and playful, and drags her finger up to Hayley’s chin. “See, it’s much better when you don’t try to play hero with me.” She pauses, goes back to stroking Hayley’s hair. “Forget about all of that for now. Forget what you’re told to do.”

“I’m not—”

“And _I’ll_ forget what _I’m_ told to do, too.”

Hayley presses her lips into a line, takes a breath that makes her feel brave enough to slide her hands up Elsa’s back as if to hug her close, only she doesn’t pull her in. “I just—” she begins, and she forces herself to continue even though this is too honest, too much, so far beyond what this is supposed to be, “I hate to think about you getting punished.”

Sighing, Elsa shakes her head. “That won’t stop happening as long as the Rangers still exist, and since we aren’t going to talk about that, the only other solution is that we make each other forget I’ve ever been punished for losing a battle.”  She tilts her head and widens her eyes a bit, enough that they seem to brighten.

She looks _human_ and _good_ , and Hayley hates how badly it makes her wish that both of those were true.

“Sounds easy enough,” Hayley says through the tightness in her chest. She puts pressure on Elsa’s back, tugging her close, and meets her halfway for a kiss that leaves her breathless.

It won’t be hard to forget now and then, but it will always come back. It’ll always be there in the background, a slow drip of poison in every moment. Hayley holds Elsa close again, like before, satisfied to feel her smile against her skin. This game has gone too far, but now she is powerless to walk away. Whoever she is, whatever she may be, Elsa deserves better than her lot, and Hayley is going to find a way to give her that, even if only for a while.


	5. Fools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search for shelter reveals that the game may not be such a game anymore. Set during 'The Safe House.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after 'In Your Dreams.' Mesogog promised Elsa her "worst nightmare" after her plan failed.
> 
> Content warnings for referenced torture (which is almost but not quite described in the narration), blood, and just the sheer amount of creepy that the whole deal with the mind control is by this point in the season. It just stuck with me how scared and nervous Elsa gets towards the end whenever Mesogog actively threatens her. (I _swear_ I'm working on a fluffy installment...! And I have another cute one in mind for after that one...!)

“Could you pass me that bottle of honey by you?”

Hayley’s voice draws Elsa out of a daze brought on by a sleepless night and another failure. Even now, an hour since Mesogog had finally released her from punishment ( _all day_ , in rounds, and of course he forbade her from falling unconscious for any of them), pain shoots like lightning through her nerves now and then, and she hasn’t fully regained the feeling in her hands.

That, more than the fact that Hayley has asked her to do something, is why she narrows her eyes and all but growls, “I’m not your servant. Get it yourself.”

Hayley’s back is to her as she faces the space by the sink, but Elsa knows she’s rolling her eyes at her. “I would, but I’m busy making you this cup of tea, so my hands aren’t really available.”

Elsa huffs, but she gets up from the kitchen stool and stares the bottle down like it’s going to bite her the minute she touches it. Not that she’d feel much if it did. Either way, she can’t get out of this without outing her state, so she grabs it with both hands, lifting it only when she’s sure she’s all but squeezing it. She crosses the kitchen and sets it by Hayley, then pulls her hands back and goes to the stool again.

“What, no flirting with the chef?” Hayley snickers. “Tch. I must be losing my touch.”

“You’re hardly a _chef_ for making me a cup of tea, Hayley.”

“ _Wow_.” Hayley puts the kettle on the stove and looks over her shoulder at Elsa. “You’re sure in a mood tonight.”

“What, am I not allowed to be?” Elsa crosses her arms, frowning deeper than she means to when the fabric of her sweater is barely a whisper against the back of her hands. “You keep talking of how _relaxed_ your side of this war is, but now you take issue with me?”

Hayley picks up their mugs and turns to face her, brow furrowed, smile gone. “It’s just not like you.”

“What do _you_ know about how I am.”

Sighing, Hayley shakes her head. “Right. Whatever. Here.” She walks up to Elsa and holds out one of the mugs. “Honey, spearmint, and a few drops of orange juice, straight from an orange. Helps me relax.”

Elsa eyes the mug with what she hopes looks like suspicion. If she takes it, she might drop it; but if she doesn’t, she’ll give away that she’s hurt. Maybe she can make Hayley put it right in front of her on the counter—

“It’s not poisoned,” Hayley says, smirking.

Glancing up at her, Elsa uncrosses her arms. “That’s just the kind of thing someone would say if they _had_ poisoned it. I didn’t see you make it, after all. You were blocking me.”

“It’s not poisoned.” Hayley rolls her eyes. “The worst it’ll do is burn you if you don’t wait for it to cool down a little.”

“I’ll take that risk.” Pursing her lips, Elsa takes the mug in both hands and starts for the living room. She keeps her pace slow, both to be sure her grip stays secure, and to try and soothe away some of the concern Hayley all but radiates as she watches. The ceramic feels warm at best, even though steam is curling up from the tea. Burns won’t take too long to heal, thanks to all the solutions available to her in the lab. All she has to do is get through the night without worrying Hayley more than she already has.

“Here,” says Hayley, walking up next to her, “let me help you with—”

“I can carry a _mug of tea_ —”

As Hayley reaches for the mug just then, Elsa jerks her hands back. The sudden movement upsets her careful but clumsy grasp, and the mug falls and shatters on the hardwood floor.

Elsa curses as she jumps back, bumping against Hayley, who passes her to put her mug down on the coffee table.

“It’s okay,” Hayley assures her, holding up both hands. “I’ll get it.”

She rushes back into the kitchen, and Elsa watches her, absently flexing her fingers. She should be doing something—making light of the situation, using it somehow to get Hayley talking. She’s been lax about that lately, coming here more often than she should, coming here for _comfort_ after yet another failure. It’s one thing to tell Mesogog she’s working on gaining Hayley’s trust when she comes back with no new information, but it’s a different and altogether incorrect thing to try and convince herself of that.

Scowling, Elsa makes a fist with each hand; they shake with the effort, and the pressure of her nails pressing into her skin feels blunt and dull. She looks down at the floor, at the mess of tea and bits and pieces of ceramic, at Hayley when she comes back with a towel to mop up the mess.

Before she can stop herself, she crouches down and starts to pick fragments of mug off the floor. “Sorry,” she mumbles as she works.

Hayley stops wiping tea off the floor and looks up at her, and Elsa pretends not to notice. It’s the first time she’s apologized to her for anything.

“Whoa, hold on.” Hayley grabs Elsa’s wrist. “You’re bleeding.”

Looking at her hand, Elsa arches both eyebrows. “So I am. I didn’t even notice.”

“How? Here, elevate it.” Hayley lifts Elsa’s hand high, throwing the towel over the mess on the floor. “Go sit down, I’m getting my first aid kit.”

“It’s only a cut,” Elsa snaps, but Hayley ignores her and heads down the hall.

Huffing, Elsa pats the towel down so it soaks up all the tea, then goes to sit on the couch, holding her injured hand over her pants. She’s already made a mess of Hayley’s floor. No need to get blood on the couch. As Hayley makes her way back to her, Elsa inspects the cut. It’s deep, along the heel of her palm, dripping down her forearm and staining her sweater. It’s sort of beautiful, that rich red against the beige fabric, how it spreads like a flower blooming.

Hayley sits next to her, pulling her back into the moment.

“Put pressure on it,” says Hayley, pushing a clean gauze pad against Elsa’s hand.

Elsa frowns but does as told. “It’s only a cut,” she repeats. “I can barely even feel it.”

“That’s what worries me.”

Hayley cleans the wound in silence, making quick work of it, and wrapping it tight when she’s done.

“You said not to call you my nurse,” Elsa says, pulling back her hand, “and yet—”

“You didn’t feel _any_ of what I just did?”

Meeting her gaze, Elsa shrugs. “Not really. It stung a little, but that’s all.”

“Do you feel this?” Hayley reaches out and takes Elsa’s other hand, running a fingernail down her palm.

“Barely,” Elsa answers, pulling her hand back.

Frowning, Hayley lifts her gaze to Elsa’s. “What’s going on?”

“What, I can’t have an off day?” Elsa snaps. “I’m not a science experiment. So I’m a little numb in the hands. So what? Don’t you humans have even stranger conditions sometimes?”

“If this is a condition—”

“It _isn’t_.”

“Good, because I doubt if Mesogog would know how to help you.”

“ _He made me_ ,” Elsa growls. “He can fix this.”

“ _Will_ he?”

“Of _course_ he will.” But no matter how angrily Elsa says it, it sounds shaky even to her. Before Zeltrax left, Mesogog likely would’ve helped her without more than a foul word or two. Now, with Elsa as his lone general with no victories to speak of, she’s not so sure. This is, after all, an aftereffect of today’s punishment. She will recover on her own, even if it’s still true that he could help her.

“Okay,” says Hayley, her gaze hard, her tone disbelieving. “Then you should probably get back now, so he can work his magic or whatever it is he does.”

Elsa sneers at her, standing. “Fine.” She heads for the portal that will take her to the very last place she wants to be. This game has gone too far. She should never have come here today, knowing how weak she still is. She will not make yet another mistake by staying.

Stopping beneath the portal, she tilts her head back and looks up at where it is, invisible until activated. With a deep breath, she raises her uninjured hand.

“Wait.”

Elsa pulls her hand back as if she’s been burned; only a second more and she’d be back in the lair. Shooting Hayley a glare, she sighs. “What now.”

Putting the first aid kit on the coffee table, Hayley stands and crosses to her. She takes Elsa’s bandaged hand in both of hers, placing one over the thick padding of gauze. It’s a simple thing, but it’s so tender and sincere that Elsa can’t look away from it.

In the depths of her mind, words start to bubble up, sounds she can’t piece together despite how familiar they seem. They twist and twine in her chest, like old friends or nostalgic music, a warm, bittersweet feeling that she absolutely cannot let overcome her. She can’t want to stay here, can’t want to never go back.

“At least let me get the blood out of your sweater,” says Hayley, her voice soft.

Frowning, Elsa clears her throat. “You just want to get me topless. I’m not in the mood for that.”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay. I can take better care of a wound like this than your boss. Let me.”

Elsa purses her lips and meets Hayley’s gaze. “It’ll take longer to heal that way.”

“You got me,” Hayley says, shrugging, giving half a smirk. “I just want to keep you here.”

Snickering, Elsa rolls her eyes. “Crafty.” And kind, and sweet, and almost too much to bear. “Are you under orders to persuade me to join you? You’re putting up an excellent front if you are.”

Hayley shakes her head. “I’m not into playing mind games. You’ll do what you want to do. All I want is to make sure you’re okay.”

“Fool,” mutters Elsa, her smile fading away because that’s exactly what Hayley is. “It would be better for you all if I stayed injured.”

“Just let me take care of it, okay?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” Hayley shrugs, her gaze never leaving Elsa’s. “Because I’m one of the good guys? That’s the best answer I’ve got.”

“Fair enough, I guess.” She tugs her hand free and nods at the mess still on the floor. “Tend to that first, before it damages your floor.”

Hayley smirks. “You’ll do anything to be in charge, won’t you?”

“I’m right, though, aren’t I.” Elsa holds out a few seconds longer before letting herself give a tiny smile. “Hurry up, before the blood dries out.”

Shaking her head, Hayley takes her wrist. “Come on. The floor can wait.”

 _Why_ sits on Elsa’s tongue again, but she doesn’t ask it, only follows as Hayley leads her to the kitchen to blot out the blood on her sleeve. The answer is likely still the same, and it will only serve to rekindle that feeling that she needs to extinguish. She should have gone after the mentor-ranger, not the technician, but it’s too late now to change plans. Maybe, when Mesogog has won, Elsa can ask to keep Hayley as her own, as a gift for her loyalty. It’s the only thing she’ll be able to do for this human whose strength is of the heart and mind, who keeps the Rangers relevant in this war, and who looks at her as if she truly cares.

What a fool Elsa is, to let herself be drawn in by this mere human. What fools, the two of them, that perhaps neither of them can tell how much of this is just a game anymore.


	6. When Bad Is Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a friend finds out about the girlfriends. Takes place after 'The Safe House.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you there was a cute one in the works! I like to think that Elsa has always liked being a bit of a troll.
> 
> No content warnings, just trolling and coffee.

“You know,” says Hayley, as she steps aside and holds the door open for Tommy early on a Saturday morning, “sometimes I wonder how you managed to get your PhD.”

“It’s just a notebook, Hayley.” He is facing her with his arms out to his sides, exaggerating the shrug he gives. “Everybody forgets a notebook now and then.”

Once the door is shut, Hayley leads the way to the dining room, where the notebook in question sits atop one of the placemats. “The one where you’re keeping notes on your research?” Picking it up, she shakes her head. “That’s a little _too_ nutty professor.”

“Okay, one? I’m not a professor. And two—” He snatches the notebook out of her hand. “This is where I keep teaching notes.”

Snickering, she rolls her eyes. “Sure thing, doc. You want some coffee while you’re here? I just made a pot.”

“Nah, I’ve gotta get going.”

Hayley crosses her arms, arching an eyebrow at him. Here he is, a living legend who’s fought off more monsters and bad guys than most people will even hear about, and he’s so easy to poke fun at. It’s part of why they’re still friends. He’s stubborn and proud and often blind to his own bad decisions, but he has a good heart. He cares, and he tries his best at all he does.

“So you’re playing doctor and making this a quick house call,” she says. “Fine, I see how it is.”

“Come on.” He laughs, shaking his head. “I could’ve not stopped in at all. You’re on the way, so—”

The sound of a door opening down the hall cuts him off, and the footsteps that follow make him frown. She catches him staring at her out of the corner of her eye, as she looks over to the source of the sound. It’s not that Hayley forgot Elsa is here, just that she had thought she would sleep for another hour or so.

“Sorry,” Hayley tells her. “Did we wake you up?

“Um,” Tommy says, not missing a beat. “Should I go?”

Elsa walks into the room, dressed in a tank top and shorts, and shakes her head. “No, I was already up. And I don’t mind if you stay a while. Did I hear that there’s coffee?”

“Yeah, just brewed it a few minutes ago.”

Nodding, Elsa heads for the kitchen, as if this is the thousandth time she’s woken up to an early-morning visitor at Hayley’s after she’s spent the night. That, in and of itself, makes Hayley’s lips twist in a smirk.

Tommy’s face, though—wide-eyed, with eyebrows arched and jaw just seconds from dropping completely—is what makes her laugh, giggles so bad she’s sure she’ll cry in a few seconds.

“I wish you could see yourself right now,” she manages as she regains control of herself.

Frowning, flustered, Tommy turns to her. “You could’ve warned that me you had someone over.” He pauses and glances towards the kitchen, from which come the familiar sounds of someone serving themselves coffee. Narrowing his eyes at Hayley, he adds, “I didn’t even know you two were dating.”

Okay, so she had neglected to tell him about this. She had neglected to tell _anyone_ about this, actually, to say nothing of revealing how this all even started. “Surprise?”

“I’m more surprised that—I mean, I thought Elsa and Anton were a thing?”

“We used to be, once,” Elsa says, leaning on the counter, mug of coffee in hand. “Five, maybe six years ago? It didn’t last very long. We decided we made much better friends.” She pauses, shrugs, and takes a sip of coffee. “That’s how it’s been ever since.”

Snickering, Tommy shakes his head. “Right. Well, I’m happy for you both.”

Hayley bites her lip to keep herself from taking the shot he has set up so beautifully for her.

Elsa is not so generous, giving a devilish smile as she looks over at him. “Has this been sufficiently awkward for you yet?”

“Yeah,” Tommy answers. “Pretty much. I’ve gotta get going anyway, so… yeah.” He laughs, shakes his head, and waves at them both as he heads for the exit.

Hayley follows and wishes him a safe trip as she shuts the door behind him. As soon as it’s locked, she turns to face Elsa. “You’re _awful_.”

Arching both eyebrows, Elsa shrugs, the picture of affected innocence. “You were laughing on the inside.”

“That’s not the point.” Shaking her head, Hayley walks into the kitchen and grabs a mug from the cupboard. “He’s my friend, it’s _my_ job to make him uncomfortable.”

“Don’t tell me you weren’t planning this from the start.”

As Hayley pours herself some coffee, she shrugs. “Maybe.” She’d certainly thought about it when she took his call and told him he could stop by on his way to do some research at Anton’s.

“I won’t tell him,” says Elsa. “Your secret is safe with me. I’m fairly sure he’s still scared of me.”

Laughing, Hayley looks over her shoulder. “I’m so glad you _get_ it.”

Elsa’s smile softens, and she shrugs as she lifts up her mug to take a drink. “I’m so glad you let me have fun.”

Of course she does, Hayley thinks as she sweetens her coffee. Elsa is free to do whatever she wants, as long as she doesn’t hurt anyone. When her coffee is just the way she likes it, Hayley turns to face her. “All I ask is that if you give him crap at school, you tell me what you did. I _need_ to have a good laugh about this.”

Raising her mug as if in a toast, Elsa nods. “Oh, of course. This is too good to pass up.”

Elsa may not be evil anymore, but this kind of bad was clearly always part of her. Hayley grins and sips at her coffee. This is a kind of bad that she can get behind.


	7. Victory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain monster shows its face, and Hayley and Elsa beat it together. Set after "The Safe House."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just cuteness with a hint of kind of sad.

“Oh _no_.”  
  
“What?” Hayley looks away from the TV and turns in the armchair, towards the door, expecting to see Elsa frowning at one of her belongings, or upset, or any other of the many things Hayley has come to expect in the weeks since Mesogog’s defeat.  
  
Instead, she is met with a scowl.  
  
“What is it?” she presses. “Do you want me to drive you to work?”  
  
“No,” Elsa answers, frown deepening as she nods at the TV. “Are you watching _Ocean Alert_?”  
  
Hayley glances at the screen, where Nikki Valentina’s character rescues a child from certain death just offshore, then turns back to Elsa with a sheepish grin. “Yeah.”  
  
“You’re blushing.”  
  
“You’re jealous.”  
  
“Not at all.” She’s very convincing, tucking her keys in her purse as she rolls her eyes, as if the accusation is little more than a remark about the weather or a jab about the cactus she’s added to Hayley’s house plants. Straightening, she gestures to the TV again, “I just assumed you’d be bored by a show like that.”  
  
“Well…” Hayley shrugs, tugging on the hem of her sleeveless pajama top. “It’s not exactly quality entertainment.”  
  
“Hardly.”  
  
“I pretty much never have a day off, so when I do, it’s nice to start the day with something mindless.”  
  
“Mindless,” Elsa huffs, rolling her eyes again. “Eyecandy, more like.”  
  
Hayley smirks. “You’re _so_ jealous.”  
  
“Not at all. I met her in the lab once. I wasn’t impressed.” She wrinkles her nose. “I’m still not.”  
  
“Yeah, she’s kind of a jerk in real life.”  
  
“And yet here you are, watching her pretend to be a hero.” Crossing her arms, Elsa sighs. “You are a personal friend and former technician for a group of actual heroes. How do you not find this boring? I just don’t understand.”  
  
Now it’s Hayley who rolls her eyes, snickering. “Oh, stop, you totally do, and you’re jealous.”  
  
“Not at a—”  
  
“It’s so cute,” Hayley cuts in, standing up and going to her. “You can rest easy, though. You’re way prettier—”  
  
Elsa stays where she is, almost statue still. “I’m a little disappointed, that’s all. I thought you had better taste in TV shows.”  
  
“ _Jealous_ ,” whispers Hayley, sliding her arms around her waist, nuzzling her cheek until she relaxes into Hayley’s embrace.  
  
“Fine,” Elsa mutters, turning so they are face to face. “Maybe I’m a _tiny bit_ jealous. But _only_ because you _know_ how mean she is and yet you watc—”  
  
Hayley laughs into the kiss she cuts Elsa off with, until Elsa recovers from the shock and reciprocates in kind. Victory tastes like sweetened dark roast and a hint of mint, smells like the sandalwood in Elsa’s perfume. If only it didn’t need to be so short-lived.  
  
All too soon, Elsa pulls away, and as the credits theme music starts to play across the room from them, she twists her lips in a wry smile.  
  
“Better now?” Hayley asks.  
  
Shrugging, Elsa lifts a hand to Hayley’s hair, needlessly combing it back behind her ear. “I’m tempted to call in sick. I _am_ a little green in the face, aren’t I?”  
  
“Oh?” Hayley arches her eyebrows. “Aren’t you always saying you have to set an example to your faculty and staff?”  
  
“Are you saying I shouldn’t take the morning off until this passes?”  
  
Smirking, Hayley narrows her eyes. “You know better than anyone how you feel.”  
  
Elsa leans in, stopping just short of pressing her lips to Hayley’s. “Turn that off and come lie down with me for a while. You _always_ make me feel better.”  
  
It takes a little effort to extract herself from Elsa’s arms, but Hayley manages, reluctantly. She turns off the TV and follows Elsa to the bedroom, and as Elsa steps out of her shoes, Hayley stands in the doorway, arms crossed, smile fond.  
  
“Nikki Valentina’s got nothing on you,” she says.  
  
Elsa turns to face her, snickering, smile playful and bright. “You’re so sweet. I always liked that.”  
  
“That’s good to hear. I always hoped you would.”  
  
With a visibly deep breath, Elsa crosses to Hayley, hugging her like a person drowning. “Thank you,” she breathes, and even though the words are buried in Hayley’s shoulder, they come through loud and clear.  
  
Hayley’s answer is to hold her tighter and stay silent until the wave of emotions, all twisted up in memories of the year or more that were and weren’t hers, recedes.  
  
“Come on,” she says, pulling out of Elsa’s embrace, taking both her hands with a small, warm smile. “I’m going to take care of you, see if we can’t get you ready for school.”  
  
Elsa laughs, her eyes darkening, stepping back and pulling her hands away in one fluid, dancelike motion.  
  
Hayley smiles, following.


	8. Some Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some nights are quiet, some are a mess, and some are a bit of both. Set after "The Safe House."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably be the last one I write for a long, long while. Possibly the last one, period, unless I get a really strong idea for another one. I hope you enjoy it, and thank you for reading the rest of this little AU! Here's some cuteness to wrap things up.

Some nights, Hayley wakes with a quiet gasp from dreams of being too late to save the Rangers’ lives. Some nights, it’s Elsa who wakes—sometimes in a panic, sometimes disoriented, sometimes shaking—from nightmares Hayley can’t even imagine. Some nights, it’s not dreams that wake them, just a whim of their sleep cycle, and if they’re lucky, it happens to both of them around the same time.

Tonight, Hayley wakes up with no memory of having dreamt, and lies there staring at the ceiling for a minute or two before Elsa starts out of sleep, tense, her breathing fast but deep.

“It’s okay,” Hayley says, turning her head to look at Elsa, but not reaching out to touch her. Not yet. “You’re safe now.”

“Yeah,” Elsa breathes, nodding. “Thanks.”

For a few seconds, Hayley watches as Elsa works to slow her breathing. Strange, how their dreams are so opposed, how Hayley is haunted by the Elsa who tried to kill her friends, and Elsa’s ghosts are from those same months. Well, not strange. Two sides of the same coin, that’s all, and they both would do so much to get away from it forever.

“I can’t go back to sleep.”

Hayley turns onto her side and sets a hand on Elsa’s shoulder. “Me either.” She’s too alert, where Elsa is too afraid. “I have an idea. Come on.”

The idea is to curl up together on the couch and watch late-night infomercials. Mindless TV with the sound on low, something to keep their brains busy while they zone out.

Fifteen minutes in, Hayley smiles at Elsa, who has fallen asleep with her head on Hayley’s shoulder. How long had that taken? A minute or two? Her plan has worked better than expected. She twists some of Elsa’s hair around her finger and lets out a long, slow sigh.

“I’m still awake,” murmurs Elsa, shifting the slightest bit against Hayley.

“Damn. Sorry—”

“No, keep doing that. It’s nice. Let’s stay like this for a while.”

Hayley snickers, releasing Elsa’s hair and picking up another lock of it. Here is the woman who still scares her students with just the way she walks, the set of her shoulders, the authority in her voice (the memories of who she was for a time, the impulses that maybe they can sense)—here she is, gentle and sweet.

Hayley smiles. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”


End file.
